She tried to raise herself to her elbow but the effort hurt her. As she fell back again she remembered distinctly the vision of Carl standing in the middle of the road and springing for the bit. Then she recalled the whole incident. She looked anxiously at the dusty figure still bending over her.
“You are hurt?” she asked quietly.
“My arm,” he answered.
She noticed that his left arm hung limply by his side. She tried again to sit up but her bruised back forced her down again. She closed her eyes. Through the dizzy turmoil in her brain one fact thrust itself forward with acute clearness; Carl had saved her life. But for him, Aladdin might have dragged her half a mile. The truth came as something of a surprise. When she had seen him standing there, it had not occurred to her that he would do this. She had only feared lest he should be trampled down. Instead, he had stood his ground. She was proud of him. It would be a pleasure to tell Barnes of this.
“If you’re more comfortable,” he said, “I’ll go back to the house and—”
“Where is Aladdin?”
“After I got you clear, he ran on.”
“He’ll return to the house,” she said, “I guess that’s all the word they’ll need.”
Carl rose to his feet.
“I’d better make sure.”